Let Go

By Claudette H. McLennon

Joyce Brookes, an aspiring dancer, met CDR. Vernal Moody at New York Medical Center in 1988 while working as a volunteer. Vernal was recuperating from an accident after being run off the road. After discharge, they became friends and dated. Then the Gulf War started, and Vernal was deployed to Iraq in November 1990. First reports stated that he was killed while detonating a land mine.

Joyce is devastated and is pregnant but decides to keep the baby despite backlash. She has a daughter, Madison Joy Brookes, August 1991.

It is now 2009, and Joyce will succumb to cancer. A month before her demise, she learns that her beloved Vernal is alive. She makes contact, but it's too late for her to introduce her daughter to her father. The day they were to meet, Joyce died. However, her dying wish is father and daughter get to know each other. Joyce's dying wish is for Madison to live with Vernal for a year to get to know each other. Will it work, and how will Madison cope with this Lazarus?

They meet but are instant adversaries. Will time and forgiveness bridge this divide?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Apr 16, 2024
• ISBN: 9798887634876

Book preview

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

Acknowledgment

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Epilogue

The End

About the Author

cover.jpg

Let Go

Claudette H. McLennon

Copyright © 2024 Claudette H. McLennon

All rights reserved

First Edition

NEWMAN SPRINGS PUBLISHING

320 Broad Street

Red Bank, NJ 07701

First originally published by Newman Springs Publishing 2024

ISBN 979-8-88763-486-9 (Paperback)

ISBN 979-8-88763-487-6 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Acknowledgment

I wish to thank my family for the love and support received from the start of the book to the end. Special thanks to the siblings, nieces, and nephews who coaxed me through the process. Your encouragement was the boost needed to navigate the path to completion. Moreso, gratitude to Gee, who fostered my early love for reading, and Harry for his storytelling. And to Dudley, always in my corner, and Michael, Jan, Norma, and Janet for cheering me on. And of course, thanks to the Creator for giving me the inspiration to do this.

Chapter 1

Joyce Brooks died at thirty-nine, leaving an only child, Madison Joy Brookes. Madison is seventeen and has already completed one year of college. She had been accepted at all six colleges she had applied, having carried a straight 4.0 average since she started school. Both she and her mother had been inseparable. They were best friends. Now she is hurting like hell.

She had time off from school and was offered grief counselling. There is a void so big inside her, she wonders if she can or would ever be normal again. There is numbness, and there is pain and both wage war on her. She hates living right now. She cannot see the point. Why my mother? she wonders. What evil was making her an orphan?

She rejects the idea that her father is out there somewhere. He was quiet for seventeen years, and he better remain that—quiet. It was bad enough her mother died, but to saddle her with meeting her father and getting to know him was unfair.

Joyce met the handsome Vernal Moodie when he was recovering from surgery. She was at NYU Medical Center. He was pleasant if slightly grumpy but had changed as the beautiful Joyce fetched him water, kept his jug full of ice, brought him fruits. Tired of his grumpiness, she offered to sing him a lullaby and was startled when he burst out laughing. There was such a transformation of his features! Joyce was struck by love then.

He was seven years her senior, but it did not seem to matter. His two broken ribs seemed to heal at record speed after that. Before his discharge, he had asked her for her number, which she gladly gave. She knew he was single and was an officer on the USS Missouri. He was injured when a truck sideswiped him, and his car skidded off the road down an embankment. He was lucky to have only two broken ribs and a gash at his hairline above his right ear. He planned to do twenty years with the navy and then retire and operate a yacht chartering business. In addition, he would operate a ferry service from Manhattan to Fire Island.

During the time they were together, Joyce forgot much of the teachings of her parents. Her father was a lay minister and was very strict. He took his role seriously and was not shy about his children's disobedience. He was not a boisterous man, but you felt his wrath. Being grounded for two weeks was mild vacation, a month Rikers Island and three months Alcatraz.

Her brother Fitzroy had come up with the names for the sentencings, much to the amusement of her sister Carol and herself. Admonitions were more frequent for the girls and more stringent for him. Parents were always worried about teenage pregnancy and with good reason.

Joyce continued at NYU Medical Center but for less days and hours. It became a smoke screen for her meeting Verne. Her auditions for parts on Broadway were few at that time, and whereas in the past would be calling the agency she had registered with repeatedly in a week, it was now weekly. Standing at five feet six inches, even though she was talented, she knew her height had her at disadvantage.

Joyce remembered the battle with her father when she decided to become a dancer. She had used all her intelligence to point out that Broadway shows were neither sleazy nor necessarily corruptive. She had informed him that many Christians went to see the shows. Her dance teacher Ms. Johnson did her part as well.

Surprisingly, her mother backed her. She had attended Brooklyn Theatre Arts High School, which was just minutes away from home. She also attended Bernice Johnson dance school. She was proud that Ben Vereen was an alumnus. She was really tops in school, but out there were many talented dancers, and exceptional was the requirement, or lady luck had to intervene.

Now here she was so deeply in love with this man seven years her senior. Age did not matter. They were compatible. They laughed at the same things, enjoyed the same kinds of food, and loved spy/mystery novels. They both loved to draw. Where he had real talent, she stuck to stickmen.

Madison wondered why her mother's life story intruded. She knew her heart was breaking. Her mother was her world. They had really been the best of friends. Why did she have to die? She was hurting badly.

By now, relatives, friends, and coworkers have stopped coming by. She has stayed with her grandparents after her mother died. She is not brave enough to stay by herself even though she craves that. She wants to wallow in her grief. She has a right to. She still did not see or understand why her mother wanted to saddle her with a father she never knew, had never bothered to come back to her or for her mother. She snorts in disgust. Some love!

Madison sits morosely in the dark-brown chair, wishing it was black, then everything would be perfect—black mood, bleak outlook, loss of hope and barren future! Her eyes glints with malice as she remembers dear old dad. She is to meet him day after tomorrow. Well, Dad, she thought to herself, you have a treat in store. How best can she offend him? Colored hair? Maybe purple or green, heavy black eyeliner, royal blue eyeshadow and black lipstick. For the first time since her mother's death, she doesn't feel comatose. It will also mean she will have to go to the hair supply store. That makes her hesitate, but she decides Dad really needs a welcome, one she feels obliged to provide. She decides she will tell her lawyer Grosman to tell him she will meet at their office.

Her grandmother Ethel plies her with food. She eats some more so to get rid of her. She just isn't in the mood for food. She knows she is being ungracious, but she hopes one day she will show her gratitude as she had been taught. She vacillated between weeping and being philosophical that everyone dies, that she has a future and that her mother is watching over her.

On Wednesday, she goes to the store to buy her apparatus for her appointment on Thursday. She gets everything she needs. She declines to have her grandmother accompany her to Court Street at Grosman and Bartlett. She has her aunt Carol to accompany her instead. She has all her props in a bag and arranges to meet her aunt in the lobby. She did her eyes, making her long lashes thick with mascara. The other props will be completed in the bathroom. When she meets her aunt in the lobby, she tells her she has to use the bathroom. Her aunt looks askance at her face. She just shakes her head and tells her aunt no judgment, just to support her.

On the fifth floor, they get off, and she hurries to the bathroom. Aunt Carol comes in behind her, and Maddi dutifully enters a stall then comes out. She starts to complete her image. She puts on a green wig, the left side cut short; black lipstick; and a ring, which she fastens on her nose. Aunt Carol's look is comical. She seems like she wants to cry and laugh at the same time. What have you done to yourself? she asked.

Remember, no judgment! I do not want anything to do with that man. I liked him before: quiet and far away. That's the way I like it—quiet! He can go back from whence he came. That should not be too hard. He has seventeen years of practice.

Aunt Carol stands with her mouth agape. Is that what this getup is about, to get rid of your father? Oh, my niece, be careful this doesn't hurt you instead.

I know you mean well, Auntie C., but this is between Lieutenant, Colonel, or whatever his rank is. I will be civil, she said.

The offices of Grosman and Barlett were spacious and clean. The carpet was thick and muffled the footsteps. There are pieces of abstract art on the walls. In the waiting area, there is a portable water cooler with discreet white cups. There are about four persons in the waiting room.

Soon, they are called and are ushered in a smaller room. They thank the polite receptionist and sit. Maddi wonders idly how many persons are executed in that room. They wait for the meeting to begin. Soon the door opens, and two men walk in. One is impressive in gray suit with white shirt. The other is well dressed too in black suit and light-gray shirt but lacks the commanding appearance. The latter clears his throat and addresses them. He is Shane Grosman. He then introduces Lieutenant Commander Moodie and rightly assumes her to be Madison Brookes. She thought his name is Harry Grosman, and he didn't seem that quiet when she had seen him first. He smiles and tells them his brother Harry had initially contacted them, but he was away, so he is filling in. Maddi breathes a sigh of relief. She is not imagining things. Mr. Grosman greets Aunt Carol after asking her name.

He explained that her mother had contacted him to carry out some last request. However, he would give the parties ten minutes to introduce themselves. He hurriedly leaves the room. Mr. Moodie is clearly as uncomfortable as she is. He addresses Madison. He expresses his condolences for the loss of her mother and wished he had met Madison under more pleasant circumstances. He is sorry for his absence over the years but never knew he had a daughter and is hoping to get to know her.

Maddi stares at him, and it is only with Aunt Carol's jab in the side that she nods in acknowledgment. She thanks him for his expression of sympathy and told him she is fine living with her grandparents. There is no further need for his service. She could see traces of red cross his cheeks and the flare of his nose. Bull's-eye, she thinks maliciously. The barb has hit like she planned. They look at each other, two adversaries! He does not scare her. He should go back home or to the navy. she doesn't care which.

Shane Grosman returns looking pleased and said he will disclose her mother's will and last request. Her mother has an insurance policy of 250,000 dollars. The bulk of her estate belongs to her only child; 150, 000 dollars personal effects except for a tennis bracelet with matching chain goes to her sister Carol and a pearl necklace for her mother. Her siblings are to inherit thirty thousand while the parents twenty thousand each. Maddi is surprised and perhaps glad but isn't sure she can see the blessing in that yet, but a voice tells her that dear Father did not have to take care of her financially or otherwise. Maybe she can take care of herself. She corrects herself.